


galaxies cannot be contained within girls made of stardust

by Tatsumaki_sama



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Always a Different Sex, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Dysfunctional Family, F/M, Families of Choice, Family Drama, Family Feels, Father-Daughter Relationship, Friendship, Gen, Mutual Pining, Protectiveness, Uncle Dante (Devil May Cry), Uncle-Niece Relationship, Unresolved Romantic Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-08
Updated: 2019-06-18
Packaged: 2020-04-19 18:49:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19138588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tatsumaki_sama/pseuds/Tatsumaki_sama
Summary: In which Neri was more than just a girl with a demonic arm who frightfully happened to resemble the grandmother she never knew. Always-a-girl!Nero





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I was suddenly struck with inspiration to write a Girl!Nero. It took me some time to pick a version of Nero's name that I thought felt right and I decided to go with Neri, which could mean “my burning light” or “my lamp”. I also had some fun changing some of the dynamics to Nero's relationships. 
> 
> I have a little bonus chapter planned out, a bit more focused on some light-hearted fluff. Couldn't quite fit it into the main story but once it's completed, I'll add it in.

When Neri made her intentions clear about joining the Order, Credo was not so much surprised as he was worried.

 

“ Kyrie is a part of the Order too,” Neri had grumbled when he voiced his concerns. “ Don't see you complaining about it.”

 

Kyrie's role as a songstress meant that she was in a relatively safe position, one where she was unlikely to get hurt or be involved in any danger. Kyrie was also not the type of person to pry and ask questions and demand answers about things she shouldn't.

 

Girls did not become Holy Knights. Especially wild, rebellious ones like Neri, who held no loyalty to the Order itself and had no faith in its teachings and ideals.

 

The Order was no place for her.

 

“ You were the one who taught me about protecting those who are unable to,” Neri argued. “ Isn't that what the Order does? You wanted me to do something with my life. There is no reason for me not to join.”

 

That was true, but Credo quietly suspected there was other ulterior motivations to Neri's reasoning to joining the Order than simply that. He was not so blind as to miss the longing glances aimed his direction when it appeared he wasn't looking or the way she smiled and her eyes brightened whenever he complimented her skills.

 

“ You like her too,” Kyrie had murmured one evening when they were alone, teasing yet gentle. “ Would it be so bad to let Neri know how you feel?”

 

It was not the matter of what he felt for Neri. She was something akin to a sister, yet she was not. She was someone to be protected, like a naive little child who didn't know their way in their world. She was someone to be feared, like a violent storm that cannot be contained by mortal means. It was frightening how easy it was to fall for her, slowly and suddenly, how Neri crept so close to his heart without him realizing it.

 

Neri was dangerous. To him. To the Order.

 

And Credo's own complicated emotions when it came to Neri was no less dangerous.

 

So he kept her at an arm's length, spoke to her only briefly and coolly, barely acknowledging her anymore. Neri was left bewildered and frustrated and any attempt to press the matter was ignored.

 

It would be better for both their sakes for it to be like this.

 

(in the end however, Credo would never forgive himself for causing such pain and hurt confusion in Neri's eyes as their swords clashed and the strained silence and tension between them finally spilled over into their battle)

 

~.~.~

 

Neri got called many names, to Kyrie's indignation.

 

A whore's daughter, they mocked her. A drunkard's spawn. A discarded nobody.

 

She would leave them, young or old, male or female, with bloody and bruised faces.

 

Credo had been appalled and furious. He gave Neri several lectures harsh enough to burn her ears off. Then he showed her how to properly throw a punch.

 

On Kyrie's end, she taught Neri all the tricks and techniques to tie and braid her hair back safely out of harm's way. She also made sure that Neri didn't walk the streets without either her or Credo accompanying Neri.

 

Even after Credo's death and the undefined disbandment of the Order, some of those names followed Neri, now tinged with suspicion and fear with Neri boldly wearing her demonic arm in the open, no longer afraid of their whispers.

 

Dante was not so different from the others when it came to giving Neri nicknames. From the short time Kyrie had known him, he must have given Neri a minimal amount of ten nicknames. Starting with “kid”, before switching to “girlie” and “pipsqueak” and eventually evolving to “cowgirl”, “little chickadee” and “queen of scowling”.

 

Neri was more annoyed with the nicknames than anything else. Though Kyrie could tell Neri truly wasn't bothered by it.

 

The curious part about it all was that all of Dante's names were said with a hint of fondness. Sometimes, Kyrie noticed he watched Neri with affection, a different kind of expression than the ones Credo once gazed upon Neri with. Why though, was the question.

 

“ What is Neri to you?” Kyrie finally asked him one day. As far as she was concerned, Neri was her little sister in all but name and she would not stand for anyone having ill intent towards her.

 

Dante didn't answer right away. “ Someone important,” he quietly said.

 

Though she had yet to fully trust the demon hunter, the fact he acknowledged Neri was more than just an ordinary girl, more than someone to be gawked at, was something Kyrie could agree with.

 

~.~.~

 

When Dante asked Neri to come live with him, he had not meant for it to come out _that_ way.

 

Neri looked scandalized, like almost being propositioned by a man who was almost forty was the most offensive thing she had ever encountered.

 

“ It's not because of your looks or anything like that,” he attempted to backtrack. “ It's your talents and skills I'm interested in.”

 

Somewhere in the distance, Trish was laughing. Or probably choking, it was a bit hard to tell.

 

Neri looked like she was contemplating punching him in the face and then walk away from the sheer embarrassment of it all.

 

How else was he supposed to convince his possibly long lost niece to stick around?

 

When Dante had gotten word of a white-haired girl running around Fortuna, it was enough to tickle his curiosity. It was a rarity, even among demons and most definitely not among humans. There was an indescribable desire to see if perhaps, this mysterious girl shared some sort of distant connection with the Sparda line.

 

And when he saw Neri for the first time, watching her tear apart the Scarecrows with relative ease, even with one arm handicapped, he was taken back to see how similar she looked with Eva, even more so than Trish, as hard as it might sound.

 

It was as if his mother was back in the flesh, twenty to thirty years younger, only with silvery white hair instead of her golden tresses.

 

But the way Neri had quirked her mouth with confidence and eagerness to challenge him, it was all Dante.

 

There was a fire in her eyes as she glared at him for daring to raise his sword against the young general of Holy Knights. Right after kicking him in the face, of course. The girl had to be related to him in some capacity after that.

 

Then, he saw her with the Yamato and he knew.

 

The shock and delight of discovering he had a _niece_ soon gave way to hilarity and amusement that Vergil had a _daughter_.

 

What would he give to see Vergil's face to know he had a little (not so little) girl who shared the physical features of their mother while personality-wise, she was a perfect blend of both her biological father and uncle.

 

“ Look, think of it as a mutual partnership,” Dante tried again, hoping the gravity of his voice would belay the seriousness of his proposal. “ Never hurt to have a second pair of eyes and ears around.”

 

Neri crossed her arms, frowning. Which was frankly a good sign. She had not tried to punch him or walk away yet.

 

The acute dread that Neri would say no and leave was sudden and disconcerting. Neri was family, even if she was not aware of it. Even if Dante denied it to the very end, he did miss Vergil and the proof that he had a living family member here in front of him and would leave him was more than he could bear.

 

“ I'll think about it,” Neri finally said.

 

And wasn't that the sweetest thing?

 

~.~.~

 

Trish caught Neri sometimes glancing between her and Dante, trying to discern the nature of their relationship. In some ways, Trish couldn't quite fault the girl for making the natural assumption about them and her, with Neri having Trish's features and Dante's power.

 

(and at this time, there was no need to delve into the complex history of the Sparda twins or the fact Trish was created specifically to resemble Neri's _grandmother_ )

 

“ You and Dante,” Neri asked Trish one day. “ What exactly is your relationship? Are you two – ?” The girl took a deep breath, going straight to the heart of the question. “ Are you my – ?”

 

She didn't need to finish her question.

 

“ No, I'm not,” Trish told her, gently and also bluntly.

 

Neri didn't seem entirely surprised but there was a slight gleam of disappointment in her eyes. For someone who longed for family and having recently lost someone who was as close as a brother (or perhaps something more, if Credo's dying pleading request to save Neri indicated anything), it was understandable Neri would seek out something to replace that aching want.

 

Trish did not have a solution to that but she did know what might alleviate some of the burden.

 

To her amusement, Neri looked like Christmas had come early with the wide-eyed way she was admiring all the clothes, makeup and accessories, inspecting every piece, cautiously running her fingers over them, after Trish brought her to the nearest mall for some quality girl time.

 

It happened to be a good thing that Trish got a hold of Dante's wallet. Besides, that man who happened to spend thousands of dollars on a leather jacket knew the price to pay when it came to good fashion.

 

“ I really don't need all of this,” Neri mumbled as Trish generously slid a bundle of bills to the cashier.

 

It was evident that the Order only gave its members the most basic and plain necessities and nothing more. Anything else would have to be from their own meager pockets. Something that Neri did not have much of. Her long coat was something of a novelty, with the clear careful way Neri treasured and cared for it.

 

“ A girl's gotta look her best,” Trish said instead, quietly stowing her displeasure and intending to channel that emotion into spoiling Neri rotten.

 

And for the rest of the evening, the two of them spent it snarking at cheesy movies and feasting on as much junk food as possible. Neri ended up falling asleep on Trish's shoulder halfway through their second movie, a forgotten pizza between her bright and newly painted nails.

 

She was not Neri's mother or grandmother by any means, but damn it if Trish wasn't going to be at least one decent doting aunt.

 

~.~.~

 

Neri was a mystery to V, as far as he was concerned. A puzzle piece that could not quite fit into his expectations. Especially when it came to her striking physical features.

 

Trish, he could understand why. But Neri on the other hand –

 

There had been no rhyme or reason for the uncanny resemblance. No logical explanation for why she appeared almost identical to Eva.

 

Except that Neri had white hair and blue eyes, a mark that she undoubtedly inherited from the line of Sparda.

 

And add in the fact that Neri could harbor Yamato in her devil bringer arm and she and Dante were undoubtedly connected, with the way Dante shouted with undisguised worry at V to get Neri away from there, V was able to come to the logical conclusion.

 

The girl, full of stubbornness and recklessness, was too similar like Dante for him to miss the signs. And yet, Neri was kinder in some ways, willing to forsake her need to get revenge on Urizen to stay behind and help carry V, telling him to rest, to stop straining himself unnecessarily so.

 

That kind of gentle compassion was unheard of, as long as V could remember, as far as Vergil could remember. The last person to show such unconditional love to him might as very well be his – _their_ mother.

 

Perhaps that was why V began opening up and spilling forth the story of his birth, like a child deplorably trying to explain why they committed wrong and desperately trying to fix their mistakes.

 

“ Tell me, was this fool before you right?”

 

There was an unreadable look in Neri's eyes. The girl was brought into this mess – _his_ mess. She had no prior knowledge or understanding of the why and how things came to be. She should have never been involved in the first place.

 

It was unfair that even now, V was only dragging his _niece_ deeper down the darkness he created.

 

“ That's something you need to decide,” Neri finally said. She was looking away from him, eyes shadowed by her hair and V wished that he could see her face, to determine what she truly thought of him. “ If you really regret what you did, then do something. Don't expect someone else to fix it for you.”

 

As harsh as it was, V could imagine Eva telling him the same thing, scolding him for being a disappointment. He tried to not let that crushing feeling drown him in despair.

 

“ Still, you are trying to make things right,” Neri continued. She gazed at him with a softer expression, one not condemning or judgmental. “ I suppose that's gotta count for something.”

 

V felt a heavy weight off his chest.

 

~.~.~

 

Vergil and Neri sat on opposite sides of the table. The atmosphere was not tense but it was not relaxed either. The tea that Kyrie had prepared for them was beginning to cool.

 

After getting over the initial shock of realizing he had a daughter, one with painfully close physical similarities with the mother whom he believed abandoned him, Vergil was taken back that the scowl written across Neri's mouth was all his and Dante's.

 

He could not help but see himself in Neri, in the way she brushed stray hair from her eyes, how she impatiently tapped her fingers across the table top, the careful way she added lemon to her tea for its sharp tart taste.

 

A distant memory of a girl sincerely offering a stranger food, of a hospitalized patient, weak but still resolute, of a comrade – perhaps able to be called a friend – carrying him along with no gain to her, all of it skimmed the edges of his mind, making Vergil feel simultaneously as if he knew the girl well enough and not very much at all.

 

Neri had refused to let him and Dante leave, let them leave without her. Her raw fear and desperation was almost enough to make them change their minds. But in the end, it wasn't, as they were forced to stop Neri who tried to follow after them, even resorting to physical force to prevent her.

 

She returned the favour to them the moment they returned, by simultaneously punching both of them across the face with her Devil Trigger before tackling them into a hug. Vergil was more surprised that Neri so easily extended the same grace towards him by including him in her embrace.

 

Even if after the enthusiasm of reuniting them had now worn off and Neri returned to regarding him with frosty aloofness, silently demanding things from him that he did not know how to give.

 

“ Something wrong with my face?”

 

He blinked and saw that Neri was glaring at him across the table, lips curled in a scathing manner that he knew was starkly familiar with his own.

 

“ Not at all,” he murmured.

 

Neri however was not pacified. “ Is it because I look like your mother?” she demanded.

 

Driving aggressively right to the heart of the matter. Neri took after him in that regard, much to Vergil's amusement.

 

“ Yes. And no.”

 

“ Would it kill you to give a straight answer once in a while?” Neri grumbled. “ You're worse than V.”

 

He held back the retort that V _was_ technically him. And yes, he could indistinctly remember the multiple times Neri complained to his human self about being vague and mysterious and obscure.

 

“ On the surface, you do resemble your grandmother,” Vergil said instead. “ However your eye color is of a darker shade and the shape of your nose and chin follow more closely after mine and Dante's. You also have a dimple on your right cheek that I once had in my childhood.”

 

Neri frowned, this time in curiosity. “ Huh. Never knew that.”

 

Pondering why Dante didn't divulge those details (perhaps his brother wanted to give _him_ that opportunity), Vergil kept quiet, drinking his tea.

 

“ Also, I think that's the longest I ever heard you talk.” Neri smirked and it was like he was looking at Dante in the flesh. “ And it wasn't even a poem.”

 

“ It seems you have much to learn if you regard poetry in such a poor state,” he retorted, feeling somewhat defensive.

 

“ Yeah?” There was a gleam of a challenge in Neri's eyes. “ Try me.”

 

His daughter was undeniably stubborn, headstrong, impulsive and all together amazing. What would he give to have seen her grow up?

 

But now was not the time to dwell on the past. There was this future with Neri to focus on now.

 

He did, after all, have plenty of time.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Bonus**

 

Someone had asked Neri out on a date.

 

Trish, Lady and Kyrie delighted in getting Neri ready, carefully styling her hair, picking numerous outfits, applying cream and color to her face, to hide any blemish and highlight the prettier aspects.

 

Which was rather ridiculous in Vergil's opinion. His daughter was perfect as it was.

 

It was all because that insignificant _flea_ demanded Neri's attention.

 

He did not know his name – what did it matter what the boy's name was? He was not important because he would not be getting close to Neri at _all_ – Neri and Nico had referred to him as “Crew Cut” or “soldier boy” and it did nothing to alleviate his irritation.

 

Dante was sitting, legs propped up on his desk, seemingly calm and collected. “ I think you are overreacting to this,” he mildly said.

 

He wasn't the one who brought out his sword and had been cleaning it in perfect view of the front door for the last few hours. Perhaps Vergil should follow his brother's example and sharpen Yamato for good measure.

 

The bedroom door opened and the girls filed out. “ Presenting,” Lady chirped out. “ The one and only Neri!”

 

Neri's white hair flowed past her shoulders in long intricate waves. The azure painted over her eyelids accentuated her eyes, illuminating its brilliant color more. Her lips were coated in a thin layer of glossy pink. She was wearing a knee-length dress and heels, a first they had ever seen.

 

In some ways, she didn't look like Neri at all and someone entirely different. In other ways, she looked all too much like their mother.

 

The memory of Eva combing her hair and expertly weaving thick curls and wearing the blue dress their father loved the most when she knew he was about to return home from one of his journeys was suddenly revived and just as painful to recall.

 

And judging from the expression on Dante's face, he thought the same.

 

Dante recovered first. “ Well, don't you look like a doll,” he grinned.

 

Vergil on the other hand didn't trust himself to speak.

 

Neri's mouth quirked wryly. “ So you sayin' I looked ugly before?” she drawled. And just like that, the spell was broken and he remembered this was the Neri who couldn't resist joking or snarking at any moment, much like her uncle. It still irked Vergil that the two of them were thick as thieves, just as quick to get into mischief.

 

“ My eyesight has worsened since then,” Dante cheekily said.

 

“ That's because you've gotten old, grandpa.”

 

“ You can call me that after you pop out a few kids.”

 

“ That,” Vergil interrupted, with teeth gritted and jaw tense. “ Will not be happening.”

 

Because the thought of any man having that sort of less-than-honourable intentions with Neri was utterly _unacceptable_.

 

Neri and Dante exchanged amused glances. Trish raised an eyebrow and Lady and Kyrie were fighting not to smile.

 

Hands on her hips in an uncanny manner like her grandmother, Neri huffed indignantly. But whatever Neri was going to say, Vergil wouldn't know because at that moment, the door bell rung.

 

The room became silent.

 

“ Play nice,” Neri warned as she spun on her heels and went to the door.

 

Though Vergil (and as he rightfully surmised, Dante and the others as well), they were quite protective when it came to Neri, even if they knew Neri could take care of herself.

 

They had missed a lot of firsts when it came to Neri.

 

They were determined to make up for it.

 

(as far as they were concerned, this boy were merely practice)

 


End file.
